


PARADOXICA ours

by cornerandchair



Category: Ars Paradoxica (Podcast), Wolf 359 (podcast)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-24
Updated: 2017-07-24
Packaged: 2018-12-06 05:59:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11594373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cornerandchair/pseuds/cornerandchair
Summary: Anthony discovers something he's sure he doesn't remember being in the Blackroom. He decides to investigate, but gets more than he bargained for.





	PARADOXICA ours

**Author's Note:**

> Right now this is an experimental one-shot. 
> 
> I might expand it? Who knows.

Anthony walked around his home-prison. He pulled at different rubber bands on his rubber band ball. He was so. Goddamn. _Bored_.

Eventually he turned and threw the ball at a random wall. At least if he broke his nose again he'd have _something_ to do that wasn't ODAR’s mail. He watched it, ready to duck out of the way when it rebounded off of whatever constituted a “wall” here.

But it it something. Something big and metal, and rolled harmlessly into his pile of Catboxes.

“What the hell?” Anthony pushed things aside to make a path towards whatever had been hit. He held out a hand, and there- right there- he also hit something big and metal. It was cold black metal, blended right in with the boundary. “What… _is_ this?” He slid along its edge until he found one of its corners. “Christ, this thing must be huge! How did I miss it?”

He took a step back, and his eyes almost seemed to adjust now that he knew it was there. It was huge. He put his hand to it again. It felt so cold, but…

Out of some sick curiosity he put his ear to it, as if that would reveal its secrets or something.

_Ba-bump ba-bump ba-bump-_

He jerked away from it. “No… Just… _No._ ”

Anthony turned way, covered up his path, and promptly set about _forgetting_ the large metal box with the almost-heartbeat inside.

If this was another one of Chet’s sick jokes he wouldn't play along this time.

He wouldn't.

He _refused_.

-

This is the diary of Dr. Sally Grissom. The date is.. oh who cares.

I got a call from Partridge today. He sounded… I don't know, stranger than usual?

He kept going on and on about this new box he’d found. He said he'd never seen it before, like it just… _appeared_ or something. Which is- well that's impossible. From what we know everything that’s there has always been there because it filters through 1943 when everything went down.

But that doesn't make sense, he filed everything in there when he arrived. So how did he just miss something that's supposedly huge? I mean come on, we don't really _need_ another mystery, do we?

-

Anthony stared at the box. He found a code on it. Or a designation number.

“GF953-**********…” He’d already run it through the system and there was nothing. Not a single solitary _thing_ about what this was. He wasn't going to ask Chet or Ester. And Sally was just as confused as he was.

He squinted. “Wait… is that a phone number?” It was crazy. But it was his only lead right now. He sighed and turned back to his console.

“What the hell, it's worth a shot.”

He picked up the receiver and punched in the number.

It rang.  
And rang.  
And rang.

And Anthony was about to hang up.

And someone _picked up_. “Heeeeelloooo doc, did you finally decide where you want me?”

Someone picked up. Someone picked up! “Who is this?” He demanded.

“Uhhh, Eiffel?” A female, vaguely robotic voice came through as wells

“Shush, Hera!” Anthony assumed he was addressing that other voice. “You… You're not Maxwell. Who are you?”

“I asked first!”

“Doug Eiffel, Communications officer of the USS Hephaestus?”

“The USS _what?_ ”

“Hephaestus…? Will you tell me who you are n-”

Someone threw open a door. “Eiffel, what _the hell_ have you done now?”

“Eep! Kepler! I- It wasn't me! I don't know what this is about but I _swear_ it wasn't me!”

“Sorry!” That robotic voice- Hera?- was back. “I was trying to get the lieutenant, but Kepler was there too-”

“Hera! How could you!”

“It was important! I'm so-sorry, Eiffel!”

Anthony slammed his free hand on the terminal. “Will someone tell me what’s going on?”

Silence.

“I'm sorry. Who is this?” The other man, Kepler, asked.

“See, that's what _I_ was asking before you stormed in here all-”

“Dr. Anthony Partridge. My name is Dr. Anthony Partridge.” 

Again, silence. 

Then someone- Kepler maybe?- started to laugh. “Oh… oh _Officer Eiffel_ , I don't know how the hell you do it…” 

“Uh… do what?” 

"You just attract these things like some kind of magnet.” Kepler cleared his throat. “Dr. Partridge, it is a pleasure to be speaking with you, honestly, but I have to know. How did you hail our comm system?” 

He glanced over at the big black box. “Something showed up here. Designation GF953-**********. I put in the number and was connected to this- wait, what do you mean “hail our comm system”?” 

“Well, Dr. Partridge… seems like we have a lot of talking to do.” 

He could hear shuffling and then- 

"Jacobi?” Kepler spoke, addressing someone else. 

"Sir?” A new voice- God, Anthony was getting tired of this. 

“Get to the Urania, send a message to Canaveral. We just got a hail from the Blackroom.” 

“Right away, sir!” 

“Sorry, Dr. Partridge. I'm gonna have to cut this call short. But… you’ve got our number, feel free to call back anytime.” 

"No, wait! I'm not done with you-” The dial tone started abruptly. “- yet…” It took everything in him not to slam the receiver down. 

He stepped away from the terminal and looked back at the box. He dragged his hands down his face. 

"God _dammit_.” 

**Author's Note:**

> BLUE BLUE | 12 24 13 7 | 17 23 16 14 21 | 18 7 9 8 11 18 25 |
> 
> The weather in Tulsa today is space.


End file.
